


Say Your Name

by Scarlet_Claws



Category: Ged Senki | Tales from Earthsea (2006)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blushing, Choking, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Magic, Magic Play, Male Slash, Manipulation, Mind Control, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shyness, Slash, Yaoi, blowjob, but that one isn't explicit, handjob, this was a request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Claws/pseuds/Scarlet_Claws
Summary: Turns out Arren's True Name wasn't the only thing Cob desired.





	Say Your Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mewbleu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mewbleu/gifts).



> To the two people that requested this specific scene from me: yes, I know I said I wouldn't do it because I'm a little iffy with Arren's age. I just realized that aging up a character is fine in fanfiction and I feel stupid. So yeah, Arren is an adult in this. 
> 
> If anyone happen to want to re-write their own version of the Infamous Bedroom Scene, they are more than welcome to do so. I'm saying that because I know that if I would have wanted to do just that, I would hesitate if there was another author covering it. But, personally, I am more than eager to read how others might rework it, and I really hope that this short might inspire others to throw their own works out there. 
> 
> Also, I want to signal that I have used a lot of direct movie quotes in this, from the very beginning to... well, you will certainly notice where I will stop following the script.

The wind blew through the reeds and over the water, whispering a rhyme of things long forgotten. The sun had set but its light tainted the sky still, illuminating the scene faintly. A young man, barely old enough to be called an adult, layed half submerged in the water. 

The Shadow slowly approached the unconscious Arren. It was a shame that it had come to this, but at least...

There was a great gush of wind.

The Shadow looked up, then stepped back. Here he was, the Man that Desired, the one that had torn them apart for his own use, standing but a few steps away. He stood still as he watched them, for he knew his own power and had come here for one thing. He would not be refused. 

"I'm sorry," said Cob. "I am afraid he's coming with me."

A second gush flew past them. That was a warning, yet the Shadow remained unbudging.

"Go!" hissed Cob.

The Shadow stepped back and faded away, pain apparent on his beautiful features. 

Cob picked up Arren, held him close to his chest, and grinned. Soon, he would have everything he had desired for so long. 

There was no wind inside the walls of the hold, but it hissed against the stone walls outside persistently. One could forget it in time, but the sound was always present, day and night, always relentlessly, always whispering. If one paid too much attention to it, the whispers became a voice, and the voice sang a song older than death itself, yet darker and incomprehensible, a song with words that couldn't be described by any human tongue.

Arren opened his eyes. He rested on a soft bed draped in sangria sheets, a comfortable bed that he didn't know, in a wide, bare room with dark strone walls. He sat up, confused. His first thought had been that he was back at his castle, that all the events of his journey, from the murder of his father to his encounter with the Shadow, was a dream. But he didn't know this place. This wasn't his home and everything that had happened was too vivid to be an illusion.

"Where am I?" he asked as someone entered the room.

Arren turned his head and saw the one that was standing near him. He was a tall man, clad in a purple seamless dress. There was an odd quality to his black hair, making it look almost liquid with its blue reflections and spots of red under his eyes like tears. Arren had the impression he had known him forever without having met him. It was the oddest thing, as he was sure that he would remember such a face.

"You're safe now," said Cob. His voice was soft, softer than a caress. "The Shadow can't follow you here."

"You saw it?" said Arren. No one had before.

Cob gave him a small, tight smile. "I know a bit of magic myself. I know what you're running from."

He turned and picked the green flask on the nightstand. Arren looked up at his face. The candle on the small table burned brighter as he came closer to it, tainting his sharp, pale features with blood-red colors. Cob was not, by any length, handsome, but there was a quality of being to him that drew the eye in. Arren kept watching him. He wanted to pierce the surface of this soft smile, wanted to see what lurked in those depths. Maybe if he looked at him long enough, he could understand where he had last seen him.

Cob uncorked the flask and poured a dark liquid in a crystal glass. "You were wise to flee from that man," he said.

"What man?" asked Arren.

"Sparrowhawk. That is, the Archmage." Cob turned to Arren and handed him the glass. "Here, drink this. It will soothe you."

The liquid inside was entirely black, so much so that barely any light could reflect off it. The prince had never seen anything like it before.

"What's wrong?" said Cob. "It's not poisoned."

Arren looked up at the other. He didn't know what to think of the gaze he met as he did so, dark and shadowed by long lashes. It felt intense and longing, and somehow that longing made him half-remember something. Cob, although unknown, was familiar... trustworthy. Elegant and soft-spoken, he would have been right at home among the courtesans of his father. In fact, Arren was half sure that he remembered him from that time, as if from a dream. That was impossible, surely. 

He looked back down at the liquid. It swirled softly with each small movement of his hand. Not poisoned.

He drank. It tasted strongly of iron but again Arren had not expected it to be tasty.

Cod delicately took the glass from his hand and put it back on the nightstand. There was a sharp smile on his lips as he sat on the bed, near Arren's legs, and gently pushed him back. He still looked at him with this look that couldn't quite be pinpointed. 

"Now lay still and rest here for a while," Cob said.

Arren looked up at him. He still wondered where he knew him from. It wasn't so much the face, but the voice too, like a whisper that had told him many, many things before. He had listened to Cob... and he had trusted him. But when?

An odd sensation spread in his chest. It was like a familiar heavy but soothing darkness, almost agreeable. The drink did have calming virtues, he thought.

"The Archmage is more dangerous than what you can imagine," said Cob.

"No..." protested Arren. "Sparrowhawk is a good man. He protected me."

"Then tell me... did you ever wonder what he seeks?"

Arren searched his memory, but he couldn't remember a time Sparrowhawk had told him his true aim. "No."

Cob's face hardened. The sound of the wind echoed through the vast, empty hallways of the castle. There was power radiating from him now, anger that slipped through his control, but even that was soft, a quiet force that needed no explosion or fancy trick to topple anything that might come in its way. Should he want it, Cob could be a dangerous man, more dangerous than poison itself.

"He seeks eternal life," he said.

"Eternal life?" repeated Arren.

Cob leaned in. "The Archmage stands at the pinnacle of sorcery. Only the secret of eternal life lies beyond his grasp, and yet he covets it... But as he covets it, so does he fear that another discover it first." He narrowed his eyes until they were but to slits, intense and blue. "That would be unbearable to one so proud as the Archmage."

"What does it have to do with me?" asked Arren.

"Because it is you that have been chosen to gain the secret to eternal life." An imperceptible smile appeared on Cob's lips. His hand came up and softly stroked Arren's hair, then cheek, as if he was very dear to him. "That is why Sparrowhawk follows you. To bring you death."

"To bring me death..."

"Arren, will you come with me? I've already found it. I found the door between life and death. Together... we can open that door. And together, we will live forever." Cob's smile became wider, almost tender, a tenderness that went up to his eyes. "We will conquer every form of fear and suffering."

Arren's breath was labored. His chest had only become heavier and heavier, and cold. It was as something was holding him by the throat, something he had known in the past, clouding his vision. It was the drink, he realized. But it wasn't poison. He would know if it was. This was something of an entirely different nature.

"Fear... and suffering..." wheezed Arren.

"Come with me, Arren." Cob leaned back. He was so far away now, his eyes so soft, so patient with him, like a spider that, string by string, drew in the dragonfly that had been caught in its web. "The face of death is terrible."

"I don't..." Arren hiccuped. His chest was so heavy that he couldn't breathe, and so were all of his limbs, paralyzed on the bed. "I don't want to die."

"Listen to me, Arren. Tell me your True Name." Cob's face was blurring, pale against the dark blue of his hair, the dark red of the bed, the dark of the room. "Then you will have that which you most desire."

"Ah-- eh--" Arren was chocking. His lips were blue. But he needed to tell Cob, he still trusted him. He knew him...

Cob leaned in close, smiling, listening. He was a man with all the time in the world. He had already sunk his fangs in his Arren, from the inside, and now he was all his. He was the Man that Desired after all, and soon enough everything he wanted would be entirely his.

"Come, give me your true name," he whispered.

"Le-- ba--" it was as if Arren was lifting the entire world with his chest when he spoke the last syllable. "Nen..."

And then it was finished. The grip on Arren's chest ceased slowly as if soft fingers were gradually fading, and he could draw in air. He did so, once, twice, slowly, his own breath burning his lungs.

"Now I am ready for you, Sparrowhawk," said to himself Cob, grinning.

Arren tried to sit up, but he was held down by a hand on his chest. He didn't know what had happened it was as if a spell had been lifted from him. Yet he still had trouble gathering his thoughts in a coherent way.

"Stay," said Cob. "Stay there, we are far from being finished. Lebannen..." He dragged on Arren's True Name as he said it, as if tasting it. Something was finally starting to show through his mask, an expression of great satisfaction. "You do not know how long I have been waiting for this moment."

"What?" said Arren. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know my face, but I know you quite well, Lebannen. I have been guiding you here, beyond the limits of distance, I have been with you each step of the way. There is nothing about you that I don't know."

"But... how?" asked Arren. "How do you know me?"

"You know me as well, Lebannen. I couldn't show myself to you. I knew that you were being watched. Several times have I tried to guide you to me, and each time Sparrowhawk stopped you." He reached out and stroked Arren's face again. "But I have been waiting for you. Your true place was always here, with me."

"But why?" Arren whispered. "What do you want from me?"

Cob just smiled, before leaning in to kiss him.

Arren was so shocked that he didn't move. The mage's lips were gentle as the threaded over his, pushing to part Arren's. A tongue darted briefly as if asking a question, before retreating. Before he knew it Cob was pulling away from him and stroking his face.

"Everything is finally as I always wanted," he said.

"But... no, you can't..:" protested Arren.

"I can't, Lebannen?" Cob slowly shook his head, his hungry eyes never coming off his little prince's face. "You belong to me. You already know it."

The hand that had been stroking Arren's cheek came down to hover over his chest. The heaviness that was still there suddenly seemed to come to life, making Arren's heart beat faster and heat spread through his body. Surprised, he had to arch his back.

"What is happening?" he asked.

Cob simply chuckled before dragging his hand even lower, to the level of his stomach. Arren gasped, his fists balling the sheets, as the heat traveled as well. It was the most delicious sensation, close to arousal yet off-key, his body reacting to just a hand over him. He bit a lip to repress the urge to moan when Cob caressed him over his clothes. The light touch was making tingles erupt under his skin and spread all over like a shockwave.

"What have you done to me?" he whimpered. "I feel..."

"I have your True Name and you have drunk a little bit of me. I have complete control over you. Not that it is a bad thing, you will see."

Arren looked down. Cob smiled at him and his hand started to move even lower--

"No, please," begged Arren. If he brought the heat _there_ , it would react for sure and he wasn't ready.

"But this isn't your first time," said Cob maliciously. "That servant woman back at your palace showed you how it's done, didn't she, Lebannen?"

Arren blushed bright red. How did he know about that?

"But it wasn't her that you wished for, wasn't it?" He leaned in and Arren thought that he was going to kiss him again, but it was only to get close to his ear. "She had a brother, and their faces were strikingly similar..."

From red, Arren became white. He thought that this secret, of all things, was safe. He had never told a soul and the last one that had known... Well, Arren had killed him with his own two hands. How could he, the heir to his country, like men? It must be some sort of mistake.

"Hush..." said Cob. "I understand, Lebannen. I understand everything you have gone through." His face was still very close to Arren's, within kissing distance. The latter was mesmerized by his eyes, the hunger he saw within that contrasted with his cool behavior. "That is why we are meant for one another. Don't you see? Not even I expected it when I found you, yet it feels right."

Cob took Arren's hand and brought it up to his own face, making it rest on his pale cheek. Weeks of traveling and hard work had made it rough, especially compared to the mage's thin skin, yet Cob seemed to crave the touch of that hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into it with a slight sigh, and his body relaxed ever so slightly. The sight made something stir in Arren's chest, and it wasn't magic.

He leaned up and kissed him.

Cob's eyes shot open in shock from the gesture and for a moment he didn't respond to the lips that timidly pressed against his. But soon enough there was a hand slipping in Arrren's hair, supporting his head as he opened his mouth. Their tongues met with slow, tentative strokes to one another.

Cob broke the kiss. "Let me take off your clothes."

Arren felt a wave of embarrassment and shyness take over and he froze, but didn't resist when Cob pulled his shirt up and over his head. He was simply unable to look at the mage in the eyes after and laid there with his head turned to the windows.

Cob smiled and leaned in to kiss the corner of his jaw. "What is the matter, Lebannen?" he asked.

"I... this feels wrong. I don't--"

"It will feel right. Let me show you."

The mage's hand hovered once more over Arren's body. Heat coiled down in his stomach before traveling down south. Arren bucked his hips upward with a small, startled cry when it reached between his legs and a wave of pleasure coursed through him. He felt himself become red down to his neck from his response.

"See?" whispered Cob. His breath was tickling the shell of the prince's ear with each word. "Lebannen, nothing else in this world can give you this pleasure. You shall be safe with me, forever safe."

Arren couldn't look at the other. He wanted him to stop but, at the same time, he wanted him to continue. He was scared and confused, yet he felt that he believed the other, trusted him still despite everything. Was it another effect of the drink he had taken? Was the mage controlling his mind, with the way he kept repeating his True Name?

His thoughts were stopped by the feel of Cob's teeth against his ear, tugging gently, before he kissed a trail down his throat. The sensation from those was different than the ones his hand, with its magic, created in him, but far from disagreeable. He shivered and rose his hands to press against Cob's chest, but instead of pushing him away from his hands balled around fistfuls of fabric. His head was full of white noise.

Cob chuckled against the soft skin of the prince's neck and lowered his own hand. Two fingers pressed down against Arren's cock, caressing it with deliberately slow circles through his breeches. Arren moaned when he felt himself grow hard. Soon was his length painfully trapped under the fabric and Cob switched from touching to palming, only adding to the delicious torture.

"This is just the beginning, Lebannen," said Cob.

Arren nodded but could only moan his response. Cob's touch felt so good that he was certain he didn't want to stop, he wanted more of it, directly on his skin. So he surrounded him with his arms and pulled him down so that they would be laying against one another, but the mage didn't budge. It was like he was made of stone. Arren whined lightly.

"You can't talk anymore, Lebannen?" Asked Cob. The soft friction of his hand on the prince's cock became even lighter to tease him. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you desire most from me."

"I... don't know..." muttered Arren. "Something... more."

"More? I see."

Cob pulled his hand up but only to slip it back down, under the rim of the other's breeches. Long fingers stroked snaked around the erection and grabbed it, giving it a light squeeze. It was a tight space under there, and as Arren got more and more excited he started to thrash lightly from his discomfort, trying to put his legs in different positions to ease the pressure on his length. Not to avail. He whined again, a throaty, high-pitched sound that expressed everything he still didn't dare put in words.

"What now?" asked Cob, amused. "I gave you what you wanted, aren't you happy?"

"It's too-- too tight," stuttered Arren.

"Then, Lebannen," replied Cob, "why don't you do something about it? Take it all off, for my eyes only."

Arren hesitated. He was still clinging to Cob like his life depended on it and letting go felt like he would have nothing to hold in the storm of his sensations. Would he drown? Yet he couldn't hesitate too long, not when the hand around his cock was starting to stroke him. So he had to let go.

The moment his hands were free, he rushed them down to help himself. His erection sprang upright when it was liberated and he lowered his breeches as far down his legs as he could. But everything felt so good it was like his he was moving inside a gelatinous mass, all of his limbs were weak from the pleasure, and even that was too much to ask from the prince. His beeches pooled around his knees and he returned to holding himself on Cob's wide back for support.

The latter chuckled. "Oh, Lebannen," he muttered. "I knew you would like it. I wouldn't have taken no for an answer... but I knew that you would like it."

Arren knew that those words should have worried him, but he was too far gone to care. With each slow stroke of Cob, a wave of pleasure coursed through his body. He felt himself tenses and relax each time, blunt nails digging in the mage's back while being unable to stop himself. Never had it felt this good to be absolutely powerless.

"Enough of that, Lebannen," suddenly said Cob.

He let Arren go and stood straight. The other tried to hold on to him, keep him close to him, but he was weak and dizzy from pleasure and by the time he had sat himself up on the bed Cob was already standing. He removed his robe, folding it carefully, before placing it at the foot of the bed, and Arren was mesmerized by the sight. The mage was lean yet his muscles were defined, and his skin looked to be fascinatingly smooth. Never had Arren seen a body he desired to touch more than this one and Cob hadn't even stepped out of his leggings. He bit his lips and watched greedily.

When Cob came back to sit on the bed his erection was in plain sight, for Arren to look at and admire. The latter wanted to do just that but a surge of shyness made him look away. He had imagined such a thing to happen with other men, but this was the first time he was in this situation and he was scared of making a mistake. He felt himself blush again.

"Don't be so shy, Lebannen," said Cob. "Touch me. You may start slowly if you want."

An arm came around Arren to gather him closer, and he was pecked on the lips. Both were sitting near each other now, chest against chest. Arren used the opportunity to stroke Cob's sides delicately, as if testing if he had the right; he was encouraged by a low hum in Cob's throat.

So he dared more. He scooted closer and moved his hand up and down. His skin felt so rough against the mage. Not even when he lived at the palace and he was spared manual labor had his hands been as smooth as Cob. He thought about it as he pushed the limits of what he dared to touch, his caress going lower with each stroke.

He was puzzled to see that there wasn't a single hair down there, neither were there on any part of Cob's body save his head. Not that it was of any importance. He had finally gathered the courage to look at Cob's cock and he could feel his cheeks heat up from that alone. It was longer and heavier than his. It made sense, he supposed, since Cob towered over him by a good head.

Arren reached to touch the tip timidly and felt a hand on the back of his head, pushing him down. He obeyed. Soon, he was at eye level with it.

"Kiss it, Lebannen," said Cob.

There was arousal for the first time in his voice, and his long fingers were holding Arren's hair with an urgency that betrayed the true height of his desire. Arren obeyed.

He kissed the tip softly, then down the curve of the length. The underside's vein throbbed against his lips. He reached to hold it firmly, had an idea, and before he knew it his tongue darted out to lick. He recognized the faint taste of iron on Cob's skin and didn't think it to be the least disagreeable.

The fingers against Arren's scalp twitched and Cob let out a barely concealed shaky breath. Feeling and hearing the effect he had on the mage excited Arren, that repeated the motion. Cob's self-control was admirable yet too weak when someone he had wanted for so long touched him as he had dreamed to be touched. He would draw in a deep breath to calm himself but it wasn't enough. With each licks growing bolder, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes and balled his fist in the sheet, his long nails biting into his palm. Things came to those that were patient enough to wait for them, and the wait only made the prize so much sweeter.

Suddenly, Arren opened his mouth and engulfed the head, making Cob jolt and gasp in surprise. He didn't have the time to process what had happened before the other started to suck with small, pleased moans. Cob hissed as delight made him dizzy. He had not expected his Arren to grow this bold on him, not with the way he had started off barely being able to glance at his cock. Lust told him to lay back and enjoy, but pride was stronger. He won't be coming from just that. 

"That's enough," Cob said. "Lebannen, sit up."

Arren opened reluctantly, pausing a moment after having backed off his cock to take a breath. The wind was cold on the wet head, giving Cob one last spark of pleasure before Arren retreated entirely and looked up at him. Even the look on his face was almost too much. His pupils were wide open with desire and his lips, sinfully pink, were parted. He looked like he wouldn't mind diving back down the least.

"We don't have all night," said Cob. "Lay back and open your legs for me, Lebannen."

Arren hesitated. He had some idea of what was coming next and he wasn't sure if he would like it. He had heard that it might be painful, especially since it would be his first time. As if he had read his worry, Cob smiled at him and patted him on the head.

"Do not worry," he said. "Remember that no one else can give you the pleasure I am about to give you... my Lebannen."

This reassured Arren. He still trusted Cob, he was too dazzled to doubt his word. His own length hung, full and throbbing, between his legs and his mind was still clouded from the remnants of Cob's earlier touch. He kicked off his breeches and laid on his back, his feet flat on the sheets and his legs spread enough to expose all of him.

Cob watched him do. Under his long lashes, his gaze was dark and intense. Arren shivered when he felt it travel down on him, over his length and balls, before stopping on his pink twitching hole between his cheeks. No one had ever done so much as look at this part of him. Feeling too exposed, Arren blushed deeply and had to turn his eyes to the wall.

His attention was bought back when Cob leaned next to him, his shadow falling over Arren as he passed in front of the candle. He opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a small bottle from it. The glass was elegantly shaped and filled with a transparent, oily liquid; Arren wondered what it might be.

Cob uncorked it and spread some of the oil on his fingers. Each of his movements was deliberately slow, as if he didn't want to spook Arren by moving too suddenly, but there was no calming the prince's heart when Cob's hand slipped between his legs.

Suddenly, heat spread in Arren's insides, making him buck his hips with a moan. Next thing he knew a finger was pressing against his entrance... and he relaxed around it instantly, letting it slip inside without a trace of the expected pain.

Arren hiccuped, confused and shocked by the sensation of a foreign object inside of him. Cob smiled at him knowingly.

"I told you so," he said.

He pushed in and out, spreading the oil on his finger inside, and pushed in a second finger that also met little resistance. Arren was thrashing on the sheets, not knowing how to take the foreign contact combined with onslaughts of heat. He needed something... the elixir he had drunk earlier was making him need something more down there, fullness, and he almost resented the insufficient width of the two fingers scissoring him.

"How about here, Lebannen?" asked Cob.

He crooked his digits inside Arren and it was like a shotgun went off. The prince cried out in shock and delight, his hips thrusting upward almost desperately.

"Please," begged Arren. "Again."

"Shameless," chuckled Cob.

And he drew out his fingers. Arren whimpered and his legs fell open further, trying to invite the mage back in, not to avail. Instead, he felt the mattress move from a shifting of weight and opened his eyes to see that Cob was now over him.

Arren bit his lip but pushed his hips upward, meeting Cob halfway. He was pushed back down by the thigh and held there and, despite his struggle, he was unable to free himself.

Cob sneered. "Soon, Lebannen, you shall have all you desire."

Arren nodded and waited. He felt a pressure against his entrance, then a wave of wonderful heat eased it in. He sighed, then moaned as things only got better. The length slipped in further and further inside him, filling him just right. There was no pain, only pleasure and the comfort that came with being so close to Cob. He let out a small sound when the other bottomed entirely, and his legs crossed behind his lover.

"Finally," whispered Cob.

Arren just nodded. It felt like he had been waiting for this too, without knowing it until now.

Cob moved inside of him, back and forth. His thrusts started slow, but that only made their precision that much more torturous. He'd hit that place inside that made Arren moan each time, having lifted his hips with a hand to have the perfect angle.

And when he got faster... Arren's toes curled, he gripped his lover by the shoulders and closed his eyes. The sounds he produced were getting louder and he no longer cared. He felt the soft touch of Cob's hair on his face, caressing his cheeks with each thrust. He heard him pant hard and groaning deep in his throat, too prideful to make a sound as he enjoyed Arren's body. The latter didn't mind. He felt amazing, better than he ever had before, yet he wanted more, always more.

And more he had. Soon he forgot everything about where he was save for the fact that the bed was soft and his lover pressed him down into it deliciously. He screamed when Cob hit his weak spot and whimpered when he drew back, away from it. At some point, the pressure was too much and he touched himself shamelessly, uncaring that another would be there to see what he had done in front of no other before... glad that Cob saw him do it, was there for it. This was far better than any fantasy he might have come up with.

"Lebannen," said Cob. His voice was coarse, a far cry from his usual soft tone yet even sexier this way. "Come for me."

Who could resist someone that knew his True Name? Arren arched his back and cried out, hanging on to Cob for dear life as pleasure shook every one of his limbs. He screamed, then sobbed softly, the pleasure so intense tears came to his eyes. When he came back to his senses, it was to find Cob pistoning deep inside of him, his breath heavy and his expression overtaken by pleasure. When he finished coming he crashed on Arren and the latter was more than grateful for the grounding weight.

Arren heard nothing but Cob's deep breath near his ear. He was looking up but he was seeing nothing; he had the impression that he was floating. The sensation was incredible. He felt as if he was going to fall asleep.

"No rest yet," said Cob. He rose a little and left a small peck on Arren's cheek. "My Lebannen... Sparrowhawk is coming to the castle, I can sense his approach. Let us face this vile creature together."

Suddenly Arren was scared. He knew of Sparrowhawk's power and wondered if they were enough.

"Don't worry..." Cob smiled at him. "As long as we are together, we hold the key to eternal life. He cannot overcome us. Just stay by my side. After tonight, we'll never have to worry about death, never again. Isn't that what you want?"

Arren nodded as a response.

**Author's Note:**

> You've noticed right: Cob didn't give his name to Arren, not even his casual one.
> 
> Yes, the stories do go on like in the movie. So no, they don't end up happily together after that. 
> 
> I am not sure to this day if this happens in the same verse than my other fic for this fandom. One doesn't exclude the other, maybe Cob got rid of all the scars as he mastered his new powers? I'll leave that up to your interpretation, dear reader, but even if I do decide in favor of those two fics being related I won't put them in the same series because they aren't the same ship. 
> 
> And I wouldn't usually say that, but I am really eager to meet fans of this ship in general, so you are totally welcome to reach out to me on Twitter (@LyroaArt) or Instagram (@Lyroa) and we can ramble together.


End file.
